Sisters
by HufflepuffPrefect
Summary: After Bellatrix's death, Narcissa goes to visit Andromeda, hoping to have a sister again. One-shot.


Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series and all of its characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.  
Rated K+ for themes of grief.

Sisters

_May_

The month following the battle was frantic. Narcissa didn't know in which direction her life was to go. Would she and her family be sent to prison, or would they manage to avoid such a fate because of their abandonment of the Dark Lord? Even if they retained their freedom, would their position ever be the same? Would they lose their status and be forever seen as pariahs? Lucius knew no more than she did; the two simply tried their hardest to plead their own case during the endless post-war negotiations.

Aside from everything else, there was her sister's burial. After much deliberation, Narcissa had been allowed to make the arrangements for Bellatrix's funeral, provided, the Ministry had stated, that it took place privately. Narcissa had thought this scarcely necessary, as she couldn't imagine that anyone else would have wanted to come. Even Lucius and Draco, who accompanied her, clearly wished to be elsewhere during the few minutes that the burial took.

Narcissa had decided, eventually, to have Bellatrix interred in the Black family plot, rather than among the Lestranges; she rather thought that Bella would have preferred it that way. She stood beside her parents' gravestones as Bella's coffin was lowered into the ground; she cried, but not profusely. Too much had happened. This would hit her later. For now, she thought about Bella's face, still smiling in death. It had been better for Bella to die as she had, fighting for the Dark Lord, not knowing how soon he was to be defeated.

_June_

Narcissa had been right: Bella's death affected her much more once everything had calmed down, once she was certain that her family would, once again, avoid Azkaban. She thought about her sister—much more, she realized, than Bella would have thought about her had their positions been reversed. She couldn't help it, though: she missed Bella. Bella had been her sister. However much she had been preoccupied with her own affairs, she had known Narcissa her entire life. She had always been a part of Narcissa's family, and they had cared for each other. It was something special to have a sister, and that was what Narcissa missed more than anything.

From thoughts of Bella, her mind moved to thoughts that she was usually determined to avoid: thoughts of Andromeda. She'd heard—who hadn't?—of what had become of Andromeda during the war. Andromeda had lost husband and child and was now raising her grandson alone. Narcissa didn't know if she herself would have been able to bear such a thing. But then Andromeda had always done things that Narcissa could never have done. She had left the family! She hadn't cared about being a Black anymore. She had left the rest of the Blacks no reason to care about her. Yet with Bella gone, with Bella having been wrong in horrible ways…

"Should I go see my sister?" Narcissa asked Lucius abruptly one night.

He looked at her sympathetically. "Go tomorrow, if you'd like," he said. "Do you want me to come to the cemetery with you?"

Loving him for his willingness to accompany her to the grave of a woman for whom she knew he'd never cared, Narcissa shook her head. "Not Bella," she said. "Andromeda."

Lucius's tender look was replaced by a puzzled one. "Why?" he asked.

Narcissa was sure that he thought she'd become soft. Perhaps she had. "I want a sister," she said.

_July_

Narcissa wasn't prepared to see a ghost at the door to Andromeda's house.

She shouldn't have been surprised, really. What had she expected to happen in the past twenty-seven years? Bella and Andromeda had always looked so alike. They had been alike at twenty-one and nineteen, when she had last seen Andromeda, and now, at forty-five, Andromeda looked as much like Bella as ever. Perhaps Narcissa had thought that the toll that Azkaban had taken on Bella's face would have made a difference, but it hadn't really—Andromeda's face was harsher now too, lined with grief. Narcissa remembered both faces when they were young—Andromeda whom she hadn't seen in years and Bella whom she would never see again…

It was the baby in Andromeda's arms that recalled Narcissa to whom she was really facing—she couldn't imagine Bella in such a posture. She cleared her throat. "Andromeda," she said.

"Narcissa," Andromeda replied. She stared directly at Narcissa, who wished that she would say something more.

"I thought…It's been a long time," Narcissa said at last, when it became clear that Andromeda wasn't going to say anything.

"Through no fault of mine," Andromeda said. She did not seemed inclined to invite Narcissa into the house. Narcissa would have to take matters into her own hands.

"May I come in?" Narcissa asked. Andromeda considered her for a moment. Then she inclined her head and moved aside. "Thank you." Narcissa followed her into the house.

"Is that…is that your grandson?" Narcissa asked, indicating the baby in her sister's arms.

"Of course. Who else would it be?" said Andromeda.

"What's his name?"

"Teddy," Andromeda replied. She smiled—at the suddenly purple-haired baby, not at Narcissa. Then she looked up. "Come through here," she said, leading Narcissa into the next room.

It was a sitting room, well-kept and cheerfully decorated, with comfortable chairs. A row of snapshots stood on the mantelpiece. Narcissa looked at them. Many showed a young woman—her features and coloring varied from picture to picture, but it was clearly the same person. The smile and the way she held her head remained constant. "Your daughter?" Narcissa asked. Andromeda nodded, tightening her hold on the baby, and Narcissa felt terribly uncomfortable. Why had she asked? What was there to say now? "She was pretty," she said at last, taking a seat.

"She was fearless," said Andromeda. "And I don't want to talk about her with you." This was just as well. Narcissa didn't want to talk about the young woman either. It had been easier when she'd just heard her name—Nymphadora Tonks. Tonks, like that Mud…like that Muggleborn Andromeda had married. It was much harder now that she saw the pictures in her sister's sitting room. The young woman had been her sister's daughter.

"What do you want?" Andromeda asked abruptly.

"I suppose I want to know you again," Narcissa said.

"Are you sorry? Have you missed me?" Andromeda demanded. "I can certainly believe it. You've tried so hard to maintain our family ties over all these years."

She couldn't deny the justice of Andromeda's words. "I went too far," she said. "I realize that. But I am sorry, and I did miss you. You're…you're still my sister."

"I don't know if I wish to be," Andromeda said. "Please leave, Narcissa. I can't see you right now." She walked Narcissa to the door.

After such a rebuff, Narcissa should have felt inclined to never see Andromeda again. "It was good to see you," she said quickly. "Perhaps some other time?"

It seemed a long time before Andromeda inclined her head slightly. "Perhaps."

_August_

Narcissa had waited several weeks before she had owled Andromeda, asking if she might see her again. The owl had come back two days later. "Come Tuesday at three," said the note.

So Narcissa went, wondering exactly what she hoped to achieve. Andromeda met her at the door and showed her in, leading her to the sitting room as before.

"Thank you for having me," Narcissa said.

"What exactly do you want, Narcissa?" Andromeda asked. "You said that you wanted to know me again. What do you mean?"

"Just that," said Narcissa. "I suppose that times have changed, and…I don't want to be without sisters."

"And why should I care about that? You left me without sisters, Narcissa—you left me without sisters for years!"

She had begun wrong, Narcissa realized. Even if she had left the family, Andromeda was a Black, and the Blacks were all proud. Narcissa would have to put aside her own pride and humble herself to her sister if she wanted anything from her. "I understand why you wouldn't wish to see me, Andromeda," she said after a bit. "This has all been..terrible for you, and I'm sorry for it. I know that I've made mistakes."

Andromeda was quiet. "I appreciate that," she said. Then she was silent again.

Narcissa had been foolish to expect anything. She had to face the facts—she had once had two sisters, and now she had none. Rising from her chair, she said, "I should—"

"No, stay," said Andromeda. Narcissa sat again. "We can talk." The two proceeded to stare at each other. What did one talk about after twenty-seven years?

"How have you been?" Andromeda said at last.

"I've been well enough, thank you," said Narcissa. Silence again. She couldn't possibly ask Andromeda how she'd been.

Inspiration came at last. "How is Teddy?" she said, thankful that she'd managed to remember the name of her sister's grandson.

"He's very well," said Andromeda. "He's sleeping now. I took him out in his carriage earlier today. It was such nice weather."

"It's been nice all week," said Narcissa.

"Fairly cool for August," said Andromeda.

_September_

Narcissa had invited Andromeda to come visit her at the Manor, but Andromeda's note had turned that suggestion down, asking Narcissa to come to her home instead. Narcissa hoped that this visit would be better than its predecessors. She was uncomfortable discussing her reasons for coming to see Andromeda, and they had run through almost all that they had in the way of small talk. At least there had been a small thunderstorm earlier in the week; if all else failed, that would be good for a bit of conversation.

Andromeda ushered her in. She, too, seemed unsure of where the afternoon ought to go. "Would you like some tea?" she said.

"That would be nice, thank you," said Narcissa, taking a seat. Her sister brought the cups over to the table. Narcissa picked hers up and looked at it, noting the pink pattern of flowers. "Do you remember the tea parties we used to have?" she said suddenly. "We had pink cups then too."

"I remember," said Andromeda. "Those old cups. There were never enough to go around."

Narcissa laughed. "Of course not. I had about a hundred dolls."

"I remember drawing place cards for everyone," said Andromeda.

"You always took too long. I wanted to get to the cakes," said Narcissa.

Andromeda poured the tea. "It wasn't my fault you were always so impatient. At Christmas too—you always wanted to open your presents before anyone else. You abused your position as the youngest shamelessly."

"Let's say I took advantage of it," said Narcissa. "Anyway, I remember when…"

_October_

When they met now, they talked more easily. They talked about their days as children, frequently laughing together, occasionally remembering something at exactly the same moment. Yet there was so much that still went unsaid.

They didn't talk about their families. After Andromeda had told her, that first day, that she didn't want to talk about her daughter, Narcissa had decided to stay off the subject. She couldn't talk about her own family when Andromeda had no one, nor could she make Andromeda talk about hers. Narcissa wasn't even sure that she wanted to hear.

They didn't talk about the last time they'd seen each other. That would have brought up questions and accusations—Narcissa didn't want to get into those, and she was sure that Andromeda didn't either.

Even their reminiscences were missing something. They were all carefully general (when _we_ did this, when _the whole family_ did that) or very specific to the two (the time that Andromeda had braided Narcissa's hair for her seventh birthday, the game of going to Hogwarts that Andromeda and Narcissa had played). They were all missing Bella.

Narcissa didn't dare bring Bella up in front of Andromeda—not when they were just beginning to get along again. She knew that Andromeda wouldn't want to hear about her. It was nothing that she couldn't bear. She'd spent years knowing that in conversation with one sister, discussing the other was strictly taboo.

_November_

"I think there's another box of tea down in the cellar," Andromeda called from the kitchen. "I'll go look." Narcissa heard her footsteps head down the stairs.

Narcissa remained in her chair in the sitting room. On the rug lay Teddy—he had dozed off while playing there earlier that afternoon, and Andromeda hadn't wanted to wake him by moving him. He stirred, now, and began to wail.

Narcissa quickly stooped to pick him up. "Shhh…shhh…shhh," she said. "Did you have a good nap? Are you hungry? Here, let's go to the kitchen and get you some milk." Shifting his head more securely against her shoulder, Narcissa carried Teddy into the kitchen. With one arm, she took milk and a bottle from the cabinet; with the other, she cradled the baby, whose hair and face were both red. "My, you are hungry, aren't you? You're growing into quite a big boy."

Hearing footsteps behind her, Narcissa turned around. Andromeda had returned from the cellar. Narcissa smiled at her. "I haven't held a hungry baby in years," she said, "but it all comes back. I miss it a bit." Andromeda returned her smile, holding out her arms for Teddy. Narcissa handed him over. "Here then, your grandmother will feed you. He's such a sweet little boy," she added.

"He really is," said Andromeda, taking the bottle that Narcissa had finished making up and charming warm. "And you're right about it coming back. I never thought I'd bring up another baby at forty-five, but it can be done. Here you go, darling," she added, settling into a kitchen chair and giving Teddy the milk. Teddy stopped his crying and began to drink from the bottle.

"How old is your son now?" asked Andromeda.

"Draco's eighteen," said Narcissa. "He hardly seems to think he needs mothering anymore, but I know better."

Andromeda laughed. "Nymphadora was like that too," she said. "I worried about her becoming an Auror, but she ignored all that. She was very good, though—everyone said so. My brave girl," she added quietly, stroking Teddy's hair.

Narcissa could hear a catch in her sister's voice. "If you don't want to talk, we needn't—" she began.

Andromeda shook her head. "I would like to talk about her, actually," she said. "And you can tell me more about your son."

_December_

"You look happy today, Cissy," said Andromeda.

"It was Lucius's and my anniversary yesterday," Narcissa said. "We had a wonderful time together." She smiled, thinking of their day—it still left her practically giddy.

"I'm glad," said Andromeda. "It's been a long time for the two of you, hasn't it? I remember when you started seeing each other."

"We've been married twenty-three years now," said Narcissa, "and he still makes me so happy. I'm sure that, when we were Sixth Years, I'd have laughed at this; I'd never have believed that two people in their forties could have something that happy and vital. But we absolutely do. Do you understand what I—?" She cut herself off, suddenly remembering to whom she was talking. She was being worse than tactless. "Dromeda, I didn't mean… Let's not talk about it anymore."

"It's alright, Cissy," said Andromeda. "And yes, I do understand what you mean."

That understanding from a sister meant a lot to Narcissa.

_January_

"Why did you leave us?" Narcissa asked abruptly.

"I had to," said Andromeda. "I couldn't have stayed at home forever."

"That isn't what I meant. No one stays at home forever," said Narcissa. She herself had been ready to marry and to leave home, but she would never have run off with a Muggleborn. "Why did you leave us like you did?"

"Because I loved Ted," said Andromeda, "with all my heart, and I would have done anything to be with him."

Narcissa nodded. She understood a bit, she supposed. "I missed you, though," she said. "I needed a sister who could listen to all my problems." Bella had never been one for that; Andromeda knew this as well as Narcissa did.

"You could have come to see me before," said Andromeda. "Who was stopping you?"

Well, no one had precisely been stopping her. But perhaps Andromeda didn't know Bella as well as Narcissa had supposed.

_February_

They had spent the entire afternoon reminiscing; it was that sort of day. "Do you remember," Narcissa said, "when Aunt Isadora had a baby and Mother went to be with her? And everyone very kindly terrified me out of my wits by explaining childbirth in terms far too graphic for an eight-year-old to hear?"

Andromeda laughed. "You poor thing," she said. "And then we promised, didn't we, to watch out for each other when we had our babies?"

Narcissa nodded. "I wish you could have been with me," she said "I had a hard labour, and Lucius was there, of course, but I'd have liked to have had another woman too."

"Wasn't Bellatrix there?" Andromeda asked.

"No, of course not. Can you really—?" Narcissa stopped. Andromeda had just brought up Bellatrix, the one subject that, in all of their months of conversations, they had never discussed. She had been so sure that Andromeda would never want to talk about her. Just keep talking, Narcissa told herself. "Can you really see her doing that?" she asked. "You remember what she said back then. She was never going to have babies, and she wasn't going to be there to see anyone else's born either."

"And she stuck to that," said Andromeda. "Well, that was very typical of her."

"That was what she was like," said Narcissa.

_March_

They were talking about something quite ordinary. "What was she like at the end?" Andromeda asked suddenly.

Narcissa didn't need to ask who "she" was. "She…she'd gone a bit mad," Narcissa said after some thought about the best way to put it.

"What do you mean?" Andromeda asked. "You don't think she was responsible for her actions? You excuse her for what she did?"

"No. No, of course not," said Narcissa. "But she was a bit mad. I'm not saying that you should forgive her."

"Don't worry. I shan't," said Andromeda. "She meant to kill Nymphadora, didn't she?"

Narcissa could have pretended, could have protected both her sisters. "She did," Narcissa said quietly. "You have every right to…to hate her. I know that I would hate anyone who took my child from me."

"You don't know," said Andromeda, "not until you've been there. It's wrong to lose a child. I would have happily killed Bellatrix myself. I would have done anything to hurt her, and I still wouldn't have hurt her as much as she hurt me." She paused. "But you don't hate her."

"No," Narcissa admitted.

"Of course, you took the same path," said Andromeda.

"I know that I did some things that were wrong," said Narcissa, "but we were brought up to believe that those ideas were right."

"I didn't follow our family's ideas," said Andromeda.

"Even if I hadn't accepted those beliefs, I would never have been brave enough to do what you did," said Narcissa. "Both of you were always braver than I was."

"Bellatrix wasn't brave," said Andromeda. "Bellatrix was insane. And you could be brave too. At the Battle…I know what you did."

"I wasn't trying to be brave," said Narcissa. "I just wanted to find Draco."

"I only left the family," said Andromeda, "because I wanted to be with Ted. Maybe none of us were unselfishly brave." She got up to wash the tea things.

Narcissa remembered cowering on the other side of the fence while her brave older sisters rode Grandfather's winged horses. She had admired and loved them both then. And, although she wouldn't say it out loud, she loved them both now.

_April_

Teddy had turned one on Saturday. Andromeda had invited Narcissa to the small party, but Narcissa had thought that everyone would have a better time if she turned the invitation down. The other guests, Andromeda had told her, were to be Harry Potter and the Weasley family, and Narcissa hadn't been able to imagine that they would have much to say to her, nor had she particularly wanted to socialize with Molly Weasley. She had wanted to celebrate Teddy's birthday, though, and she had arranged to come over the following day.

On Sunday afternoon, Narcissa arrived at Andromeda's house, a gift for Teddy in hand. Andromeda opened the door smilingly, holding Teddy on her hip. "Hello, Cissy," she said.

"Hello, Dromeda," said Narcissa, stepping into the house. "Hello, Teddy. Happy birthday!"

"Look, Teddy," said Andromeda, as they walked into the sitting room. "Great-Aunt Cissy brought you a present. It's no surprise. We all know that it's you she really comes to visit."

"You've seen through me," said Narcissa. Andromeda set Teddy down on the rug, and the two women knelt beside him, helping him to pull the wrapping paper off the present. Inside was a stuffed Kneazle, pink and orange striped.

"Look, Teddy!" said Andromeda. "It's a Kneazle!" Teddy's face and hair lit up. "Didn't you have one of these?" Andromeda asked Narcissa.

Narcissa considered. "Maybe. Was it yours first?"

"Maybe. Sort of greenish, I think?"

"That sounds right," said Narcissa. "I can't have played with it much. I never really cared for stuffed animals, except for Josephine, of course."

"Josephine!" said Andromeda. "Oh, I haven't thought about her in years! Where didn't you bring that unicorn?"

"I brought her everywhere," said Narcissa. "She must have been filthy."

"She was," said Andromeda, "but you always said that she was the most beautiful unicorn in the world."

Narcissa laughed. "Well, anything's wonderful when you're that small." Teddy illustrated this point by casting the Kneazle aside and trying to fit the entire sheet of wrapping paper into his mouth. The two sisters hastened to stop him.

_May_

It was the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Narcissa hadn't been sure what to do. Should she offer to go with her living sister to visit her niece's grave, or should she visit her dead sister, the one who had killed that niece? Eventually she had decided to do both.

Andromeda had accepted her offer, and the two went to the cemetery, along with Teddy, early in the morning. A lot of people were certainly going to be there that day, and Andromeda wanted privacy. She knelt by her daughter's grave, crying quietly, while Narcissa stood slightly back, holding Teddy. She wished that she could help her sister in some way other than holding a baby.

Eventually, Andromeda rose. "I'm finished," she said, taking Teddy back into her arms. "Say goodbye to your mum, Teddy. We can go now."

Andromeda accompanied Narcissa to the cemetery where Bellatrix was buried, although she didn't come in; she waited outside with Teddy. Narcissa didn't intend to stay that long anyway. She laid some flowers on the grave and remained there for a few minutes, thinking of Bella. As she turned to go, mostly dry-eyed, she caught a glimpse of Andromeda at the gate. That was when she began to really cry.

When she arrived at Andromeda's side, Andromeda shifted Teddy onto one hip and put an arm around her, gently. "I miss her," Narcissa managed to say, "but it isn't that. It's just that…there were the three of us for all of our childhoods, and I loved you both. But then I only had her, and now I only have you…and I wish I could have had two sisters for longer."

"But you couldn't have," Andromeda said. "After I left, you had to choose. You know how Bellatrix was—she would never have spoken to you if you'd still seen me. It would have been me or her. I'm not saying that you chose right, but you couldn't have chosen both." Narcissa nodded, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief. "Let's go," said Andromeda. "Do you want to come around for tea?"

Narcissa nodded again. She thought of Bellatrix, who'd been with her for so many years. Then she took Andromeda's arm and walked away for an afternoon with her sister.


End file.
